


All My Faith

by I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Abuser Thinking He Is Kind, Casual Discussion of Ahsoka Death, Choking, Consuming Hazardous Objects, Graphic Depiction of Suicide Attempt, Life-Saving Surgery, M/M, Suitless Vader, Teeth Used As Weapons Against Self, Unreliable Narrator, graphic depiction of rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 20:10:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10929186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning/pseuds/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning
Summary: Long ago Vader captured Obi-Wan, keeping him locked away.Some days, Vader is gentle with him. Other times... Vader's just had a rotten day.With one final announcement, Obi-Wan's past the point of all endurance. He just wants to escape, however that opportunity presents itself.





	All My Faith

 

Obi-Wan Kenobi was standing, waiting, as Vader stepped through the door.

He must have read something in the Sith's eyes, because his face paled. “What is it?”

And that was the final straw in a terrible day. He wadded his cape and threw it aside, took two strides forward, and seized Obi-Wan's throat with hands that still had blood on them.

Aside from the indrawn gasp and eyes flooding with dread, Obi-Wan made no move.

Vader dragged him into the adjoining room, throwing him on the bed.

He submitted as Vader yanked his waistband down, provided spit when Vader indicated, and tried to relax as Vader used that alone to drive into him, staring down at the smooth expanse of back, the shoulders tensing, then shuddering as Obi-Wan stifled a whimper.

It had become too familiar to fight anymore.

Vader wrapped a bloodied hand around Obi-Wan's throat, feeling the pounding pulse beneath his fingers. The fear, the  _ pain— _

Vader felt the blood seeping from the unprepared body beneath him.

“I killed Ahsoka today,” he said.

Obi-Wan stilled, then convulsed once, letting out a mournful cry.

Vader pounded into him, trying to drive memories away with sheer sensation overload.

It wasn't working.

So he fripped him  _ harder— _

 

* * *

 

The violation, the pain felt meaningless compared to what he'd been told.

Obi-Wan wept as Vader had his way.

Fingers massaged his throat, and a rough voice in his ear whispered, “Yes, weep for her, Obi-Wan. She deserves that much, at least.”

 

* * *

 

It felt  _ right _ . His beautiful Obi-Wan's tears, they felt so  _ pure. _

Vader himself hadn't been able to cry. He couldn't make sense of the conflicting emotions inside him, but  _ this  _ straightened them out.

Obi-Wan would grieve, and he would grieve so  _ rightly— _ far better than anyone like Vader could—

Yes. He would grieve, leaving Vader not needing to.

Ahsoka would be remembered, mourned, treasured, the way she  _ deserved. _

_ But for me, there is only the Empire. _

Obi-Wan completed him. Gave what he couldn't.

Vader finished with a silent snarl and pulled free. He fell to the bed, still facing Obi-Wan's back. “Turn around,” he directed.

Obi-Wan obeyed, moving cautiously, pain clearly flaring through his body the while.

Vader saw tears falling, saw the agony in those eyes—

“Stay there.” He rolled up, discarded his clothes, and moved into the refresher. In a moment he was back, removing Obi-Wan's garments.

Long ago he'd discovered that comforting Obi-Wan did  _ not  _ go well if he tried to pleasure the man, so he refrained.

In this moment, what he'd failed to achieve just a little while ago arrived.

Everything went away, except for Obi-Wan,  _ his  _ Obi-Wan, in pain and brokenhearted. Vader poured every thought and all of his focus into tenderly clearing away the vicious signs of his taking.

He washed the blood and other fluids away, slipped a healing suppository into Obi-Wan's broken entrance. He kissed the cruel bruises and ghosted ointment over them. He stole away the top blanket, leaving the bed cool and inviting and clean.

Setting aside the soiled washcloths, Vader lay beside him once more, looking into his face.

Obi-Wan met his gaze with one of such perfect misery that it stole Vader's breath. He leaned forward to kiss away the tears, tasting them carefully and claiming them for his own.

His. He'd inflicted them.

They were the symbols of Obi-Wan's love.

When satisfied, he drew Obi-Wan's head to his chest, allowing the Jedi to curl against him, still wracked with silent sobs.

He put his arm around his Obi-Wan, holding him against the years of anguish.

And, perfectly content, Vader lightly stroked his back as the Sith fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

Vader's eyes snapped open to meet the dark of the room.

It had to be  _ very _ early morning.

Obi-Wan was no longer beside him, but his place was still warm.

He slid to his feet, padding silently to the refresher.

There, on the cold, hard grating, allowing the metal to bite into his knees instead of taking advantage of the carpet in the other rooms, Obi-Wan knelt.

_ All  _ the other areas held carpet; this was the one room with so harsh a floor.

_ He wants it to hurt,  _ Vader realized.

He had Vader's bloodstained, torn cape clutched around him to cover his nakedness, making his skin look even paler than usual.

Obi-Wan was murmuring, and it almost looked like prayer.

Unseen, Vader watched, straining his ears to listen.

“I'm the one who paired you together. I'm so sorry, Ahsoka.”

Ah. Obi-Wan's recitation of the dead. Vader had suspected Obi-Wan to have carried it over from his years as a general, but hadn't actually managed to catch him in the act before. He leaned against the doorframe, ignoring the slight bite of the cool air against his skin.

“I believed in him,” Obi-Wan whispered. “I put all my faith in him. And for it, so many have died.”

Vader smiled to himself as he watched Obi-Wan's skin seem to glow in the dim light. His. All his.

A copper scent had him flaring his nostrils.

_ What is—? _

He looked again at the grating.

Nothing marked the shining surfaces—

But  _ beneath... _

He put in a call for the medic droid even as he sprang forward and dragged the cape from Obi-Wan's body.

The Jedi didn't even look up at him, merely falling silent.

There.

Vader grabbed his palms, turning the wrists up to reveal terrible wounds. The pale welts where Obi-Wan had tried to claw his veins open, then realized his fingernails weren't adequate enough. Some of the marks had clearly been gone over again and again, trying to amass damage through repetition— those ones had blood oozing—

What was worse was the mess smeared across his chin, and the clear teeth marks.

The determination necessary to work at it long enough to accomplish  _ this much  _ damage—

Vader cursed and applied himself to stopping the bleeding.

Dull eyes watched his work, offering no resistance.

The clank of metal on metal alerted Vader to the meddroid's presence.

It didn't take long to put Obi-Wan out of danger. He hadn't been bleeding for long.

Vader had no doubt  _ this  _ was why he'd awakened. 

They hustled Obi-Wan back into bed, and that was when he saw blood on Obi-Wan's thighs.

Apparently he'd moved too much, restarted the rectal bleeding.

Vader headed back to the refresher to retrieve another suppository.

He found the bottle completely empty.

Knowledge hit like a knife.

Activity exploded as the meddroid pumped the Jedi's stomach.

“Clever bastard,” Vader hissed, punching Obi-Wan in the face to get his attention.

Almost bored eyes found his.

“Chewing your wrists was a  _ decoy  _ to  _ distract  _ us into thinking we'd  _ won.  _ You  _ knew  _ I'd stop that. You thought you could slip away while I slept holding your fripping bandages!”

No response.

Vader hit him again.  _ Again. _

No sign of penitence... or  _ anything  _ whatsoever. No regret at having been caught, no—

A moan escaped Obi-Wan, his face draining of all color. Something clinked. The droid whirred.

“It appears he has consumed sharp pieces of glass and metal.”

_ Three _ .

His master had implemented  _ three  _ suicide plans at once.

He was too panicked to do more than  _ hate  _ the fact that Obi-Wan had the gift of strategy to rival the best military minds of their time.

 

* * *

 

Qui-Gon watched as the surgery dragged on, his former Padawan hovering between life and death.

He'd tried begging him to stop,  _ this isn't the way— _

But Obi-Wan hadn't heard him.

_ Never  _ had Qui-Gon so hated the invisible barrier that kept him from reaching out to those still living as he hated it now.

_ Live, Obi-Wan. As long as you're alive, there's hope for something better. _

When Obi-Wan's eyes finally opened, utter despair in their depths as he realized he'd failed to escape, Qui-Gon felt overwhelming relief.

And then terrible guilt at feeling relieved by the suffering he read in the blue orbs now obscured by tears.

Vader grabbed him by the jaw and forced him to look into golden eyes. “Don't you  _ ever  _ try something like that again. You belong to me.  _ I  _ tell you when you're allowed to die.”

Obi-Wan had no will left to fight when Vader crushed their lips together. He simply opened his mouth before Vader had a chance to demand it, and lay still on the bed, soul disconnecting from it all.

His spirit walked away, leaving a fully-functioning shell behind.

Vader never noticed the difference.

 

 


End file.
